


I'm a (...)

by bluetilo



Category: Batman (Movies - Nolan), Dark Knight Rises (2012)
Genre: Drug Use, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Smut, Unsafe Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-12
Updated: 2013-04-12
Packaged: 2017-12-08 05:57:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/757872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluetilo/pseuds/bluetilo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barsad is the only one who sees Bane without the mask.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm a (...)

**Author's Note:**

> Sometimes my titles are somewhat random, but not this time, I swear. Betaed by omletlove, one of the greatest people in the world.
> 
> Con-crit is always welcome.

_I'm a man_  
 _I'm a drug_  
 _I'm your slave_  
 _I'm a dream to find_  
 _And we'll make love together_  
\- Sex (I'm a), Lovage

Barsad is the only one who sees Bane without the mask.

Every two or three days Bane will isolate himself inside a windowless room, lie down on a large bed and wait for Barsad to come to him. They never say a word to each other when they are inside this room.

Barsad handles all the equipment they'll need. He has all the tubes and compounds in order to get Bane the care he needs. He's the only one allowed to. The only one special and trusted enough to be with Bane in times like these. Not even Talia is allowed here.

When Barsad enters the room, Bane is already lying down shirtless, facing the ceiling in a silent wait. Before Barsad makes any move towards the mask, he makes sure it won't mean agony to Bane. He sets the infusion pump ready and places the morphine supply in it. He then wraps a rubber band around Bane's muscular arm. Bane opens and closes his fist, not needing instructions--they've done it far too many times.

After Bane put on the mask, no one had ever approached him holding a needle, until Barsad came along. It is an honor bestowed only upon him. It is a relief only Barsad is permitted to give. His master permits himself to be vulnerable when he lies on this bed, and Barsad will never betray his trust. Being useful to Bane, servicing him, worshipping him, being close to him is Barsad's reason to live.

He never takes long to find an adequate vein, connecting the blood vessel to the morphine pump. Only after the morphine starts flowing, Barsad moves next to Bane's face, fingers zealous over the straps of his mask, disconnecting them, freeing Bane from his cage.

As the morphine does its work, Bane is capable of taking off the mask without going mad with excruciating pain. Barsad never flinches when he sees Bane's scarred face. Instead, his fingers trace the scar tissue. The cartilage in his nose is shaven and there is little of it left. A thick line goes over his nose up to his forehead, marking the spot the prison doctor has cut into, and then sutured, trying to repair muscle damage. His lips are torn apart, a portion of them gone, exposing some of his teeth. The mask, in addition to keeping agony at bay, takes care of his saliva, keeping him from drooling or suffocating himself.

Looking at him, Barsad is taken by a strong feeling. He straddles Bane, his legs wide apart so he can mount the large torso. Bane eyes him so intently, Barsad imagine Bane is challenging him to be grossed by what he sees. When he touches the havoc of Bane's lips, he hopes his body language says 'I love you', 'I adore you'.

He spreads a soothing balm over Bane's cheeks, where the strapes press into his flesh. Wearing the mask must have an ambivalent effect on Bane, calming his pain but injuring him, molesting him. Barsad is there to ease his pain in any way he can.

Now it’s time to take care of Bane's nourishment. Another infusion device is set. This time, Barsad introduces a nasogastric tube inside Bane's nostril, guiding it all the way in, until it reaches his stomach. Enteral feeding is a practical way of getting Bane nutrients not wasting precious time without the mask. That way he could eat and sleep at the same time.

Next to half a liter of nutrition supplements will drop into his stomach for the next two hours, so Barsad readies himself to get Bane relaxed through that period. He unlaces the man's boots, taking each one off carefully, removing his socks altogether.

He uses oiled hands to massage Bane's feet, caressing and rubbing every point of tension he can find. His fingers slide between the toes, and his nails scratch softly at the heels. The inner curve of Bane’s soles get special attention. Anyone else would be humming by now, but Bane is too controlled for that. Barsad may be fooling himself, but he thinks he can see appreciation in Bane's eyes.

He strips Bane of his cargo pants and underwear. His eyes cast furtive glances over Bane's limp cock, but instead of touching him there, his hands go to Bane's arms and shoulders, massaging him. He contours the edges of his muscles, going all the way down his belly, dipping one finger briefly inside his navel.

He ignores Bane's groin completely and proceeds massaging his thighs. Bane spreads them and it gets harder not to stare at his cock and balls--he had the most perfect balls, heavy, round, big. Barsad is confident his expression doesn't betray his feelings, but Bane's mighty body tempts him and it's overwhelming.

He's half hard in his pants when it's time to get the tube out of Bane's nose. It's a little anticlimactic when he pulls it, killing his erection. Bane is coughing, his chest rising up and down rapidly, but sooner than later the tube is out and Bane rests a little longer, taking in deep breaths.

His eyes are closed. Barsad is about to get up, intending to stay away until Bane is well rested and wants the painkiller IV out, when he feels a large hand over his arm. Bane turns his head to face him. Bane’s expression is bold. Barsad feels challenged once again.

Bane pulls him closer. He obeys the commanding hand on his neck, leaning against Bane. Their faces are close, noses almost touching. Bane dares him silently to make his move. Dares him to look at his ragged lips and kiss him.

Barsad does and it's the best kiss of his life. When his lips move slowly against Bane's, there is an explosion inside his chest, he feels as if his whole life was just a prologue to this very moment. It is like he's being rewarded for enduring all the pain and misery he has been through in his life before meeting Bane.

Barsad licks the shape of Bane's lips, hardening again. They part and Bane's thick tongue licks his own lips as his fingers take off Barsad's jacket and shirt.

They kiss like that for a while, exploring each other's mouth and reactions. Bane's guarded way can't be mistaken for a lack of interest. His cock twitches, his eyes flutter as Barsad closes his fingers between Bane's legs, circling his girth.

Barsad’s pants, boots and socks join his shirt and jacket on the floor when he gets as naked as Bane.

He dives between Bane's legs, taking cock into his mouth, licking, salivating, sucking until the head pushes past his tonsils, deep throating Bane the best he can. His fingers caress Bane's balls, cupping them. The thighs around his neck make him warm. He bobs his head, and when his jaw aches, he jerks off the tip, lubricating it with his spittle, rubbing the glans on his lips and face.

Barsad smears one of his fingers with saliva and moves his hand between his own legs, past his cock and balls, finding his ass, and presses his digit there. He slides it in just past his fingernail, and works his ass this way, in time with sucking Bane's cock, first one finger, then two and three, never probing too deep, just working the ring of muscles.

Bane's hand moves to his hair, stretching the line of his IV. Barsad stills him by the wrist. Bane shouldn't be moving that hand.

Barsad doesn't feel ready, but he and Bane are getting eager, so he straddles Bane once again, after oiling his cock. He places the tip of it against his opening, and lowers his body. Bane is breaking him, pushing the air out of his lungs, stretching him, drilling into him.

Barsad feels him everywhere. He feels their thighs touching, balls touching his buttocks, feels drowned in Bane's scent. He's panting heavily, his heart aches when he raises his legs and lowers his body again, Bane's impossibly hard cock pressing against his prostate.

He positions his palms on Bane's waist, fucking himself on Bane’s cock, his own erection bobbing stupidly as he moves. Bane grabs it, squeezes it, and rubs his thumb over the head, spreading precome over it. He takes his smeared fingers to his ruined mouth and licks it. A scenario crosses Barsad's mind, an insane image where Bane gets on his knees and takes him into his mouth, until Barsad's come marks his deformed lips.

Right now, Barsad is happy enough to kiss Bane, leaning against him, resting his weight on his knees as he keeps fucking himself on Bane, their chests against one another, and his tongue shoving itself inside Bane's mouth, sharing saltiness from his own precome.

He imagines a moment when Bane will fuck him against a wall, hold him, abuse him, bruise him. He pictures himself being fucked all on fours, with no preparation, hurting and surrendering, bucking against Bane with loud pleas. He imagines raw fucking and sensuous violence against his skin. He doesn't know if it will happen, if he and Bane will ever fuck again after today, after this restrained sex. But because Bane is on morphine and it makes him groggy, Barsad knows he's getting more than his fair share, more than he has ever hoped for.

He impales himself, moans against Bane's mouth, the hair on his arms standing on end. He wants to be good, needs to make it feels so good Bane won't be able to forget it, even if he's hazy, even after the morphine gets cleared of his system.

Bane's touch on his cock alone is too feeble to make him come, but the thrusting in his ass isn't. He slams himself faster and faster, his muscles burning lactic acid and sweat dripping from his back. His mind is lost when he comes, he feels lightheaded. Come splashes between him and Bane and over their hands. Barsad shoves two fingers inside his own mouth, tasting his own come, pretending it's Bane's and wondering if he'll ever get the chance to blow him to orgasm, of choking on his come.

Bane hasn't come yet, so Barsad keeps jumping on his cock, until tears are pooled on the corner of his eyes. He feels he's being fucked for ages when he senses the grip on his thigh getting tighter. Bane is flushed and gasping, mouth open and teeth even more exposed when he spurts inside Barsad's hole.

Barsad knows this is the first time Bane has fucked in years, because for years Barsad has never left Bane's side, not for a single moment. And this is his reward, he is special, he is the one.

They sleep together.

In fact, Bane sleeps. Barsad is awake, staring at Bane, memorizing his face, his beautiful face before the mask covers it again. He would do anything for this man, he would sate his every need just for a chance of watching him as he sleeps. Barsad would be his bodyguard, his lackey, his slave, he would be his toy when Bane was bored. So when they were alone like this, when there was nothing else in the universe, Bane would be stripped of his mask—not only the one which covered his face, but also the one which hid his heart.


End file.
